Dream of Freedom
by darken-the-legends
Summary: It was, in short, the worst day of her life when Persis Jackson discovered that flying horses and heaven existed - and a lot more besides. Unfortunately, she was stuck with being a demigod… and so was Luke Castellan. Fem!Percy. Genderswap AU. NO OCs. Luke x Fem!Percy and one-sided Male!Annabeth x Fem!Percy.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello! Okay, so:**

 **ObeliskX wondered if I would do a genderswap AU with fem!Percy and male!Annabeth. This is the result. I hope its okay. There will be a few differences, like different monsters and stuff, because I don't want it to be a copy of PJO, but basically it starts off the same… pretty soon it changes.**

 **(I called Annabeth, Andrew. Answer: it's Greek, and also I didn't want to follow the common trend of calling the person Anthony.)**

 **Persis**

Persis Jackson was busy having the worst day of her life.

Firstly, school trips _always_ sucked. Even ones that were headed by the one teacher she actually liked… Mr Brunner, who taught Latin.

She'd figured out pretty early on that she was abnormal – she didn't need her disgusting stepfather Gabe calling her a freak to work that out. But it was like school trips were a trigger for the abnormality to climb up a level.

Maybe it had something to do travel? That would make sense, because she'd never really been away any further than Montauk with her mom aside from the mandatory school trips she went on. Perhaps her mom knew something… no. Who was she kidding? It wasn't like she was some unknown royal needing protection from terrorists in an overly clichéd film. And her mom definitely wasn't a bodyguard.

But, anyway, school trips always went wrong and quite often they were the reason for her annual expulsion.

Persis slumped on a seat she'd found, away from all the popular kids, at the front of the bus, My Chemical Romance's 'Welcome to the Black Parade' playing in her head with a few alterations.

 _When I was a young_ girl, _my father took me into the city…_

Had he? She supposed he probably had. Not that she could remember him, because the bastard had left her mom and gone on a sea voyage. He must have known the risks. Must have known there was a chance he'd seen his baby daughter and wife for the last time.

 _When you grow up, would you be the savior of the broken, the beaten and the damned…_

When she grew up, she'd probably be stacking shelves in drugstores for the rest of her life, with the grades she was currently getting and the money she had.

The bus slowed to a halt, and there was a rush to get to the doors. The teachers – Mr Brunner and a blonde woman called Mrs Kerr, exited soon after. She was almost the last one to leave… almost.

Grover Underwood, her fellow class reject, was frantically looking under the seats with one hand clamped firmly over the top of his head.

Frowning, she approached him. He wasn't wearing the stupid Rasta cap he usually wore, she noted. Maybe he'd lost that?

Up front, the coach driver was tapping his watch in annoyance.

"Erm… you need help?" Persis said awkwardly.

Grover glanced up with a comic expression of surprise on his face, jumping out of his skin when he saw her. "I've… well, I've lost my cap."

"I can tell." she rolled her eyes. "It'll be easier if we both look. It can't have vanished into thin air."

"No, no, I've found it." He winced, blushing a strange colour. His left hand remained firmly attached to his head. "I mean, I just can't get it out. My hand won't fit."

The coach driver was beginning to walk towards them with an annoyed expression on his face, like they'd inspired the whole class to start singing pop songs at the top of their voices at a busy intersection.

She crouched down and managed to get her hand through a gap between the dusty floor, the seat upholstery and a metal bar, dragging out Grover's Rasta cap with a spider attached.

"Ew." he made a face. "I hate these. Comes from hanging out with a friend too much… she hates spiders. It's because of her m-"

He broke off in mid-sentence, mouth closing in the wink of an eye. He looked decidedly shifty, but she had no idea why.

"Er… Grover?"

He didn't respond, just slammed the Rasta cap on his head and said, "Thanks-"

Persis was beginning to think he had some weird speech impediment that came and went. "Um… right. Well, I'm go-"

Grover grabbed her arm and attempted to drag her towards him. Her eyes widened and she planted her feet firmly, wondering if he was crazy. She attempted to wrench her arm away, but he had a surprisingly strong grip.

She spun around, hoping for help from the driver- and promptly recoiled so fast she sprang back and nearly landed on Grover.

The coach driver was standing right in front of them – at least… It was like his evil, uglier twin who could have knocked down Chuck Norris with the flick of a hand had replaced him. Heck, he probably would've had no problem strangling Hagrid.

But all of that faded away, because the man only had one eye.

Persis's mom had used to volunteer at hospitals when she was younger, and sometimes she'd taken her daughter with her. She could remember seeing a woman there with only one eye, the other blown off in an explosion of shrapnel. She'd been a journalist or something, working in a warzone – you couldn't see anything, and there was a bandage tied firmly over that part of her face, but it had still seemed horrific.

This wasn't like that. The man's eye was planted firmly in the middle of his face, the skin around it bulging and distorted. He looked as if he also had a broken nose. He opened his mouth, and a hollow bellowing sound came out that echoed all around the bus.

Persis's head snapped frantically from left to right. Outside, the kids were settling down for a register to happen, sneaking crisps like nothing weird was going on.

 _But they had to have heard the… monster._

It seemed suspiciously like no one had. Mrs Kerr was calling off names. She could no longer see Mr Brunner.

The monstrous bus driver screamed again in a low, throaty voice, and Grover – inexplicably – moved in front of Persis. He dug into his backpack, and, bringing out what looked like a torn edge of a can of Coke, ran forwards and embedded it in the thing's arm, leaping back immediately.

Nothing happened. The thing raised its arm to its face as if to sniff it, then reached forwards with its other hand and tore it out, leaving an empty black gash behind.

There was no blood.

Persis's heart banged in her ears. She was pretty tempted to run to the back of the bus and hide. The exit was blocked… _The emergency window._

Persis grabbed her bag and hurled it straight at the point that would smash the glass-

The window shattered, but just as she made to move, a silver blur appeared in the centre of her vision, making straight for her head.

It was… a knife?

No. A sword.

She stared, horror-stricken, out of the window. The monster bellowed and rushed forwards. She was either about to be impaled or crushed, and she couldn't decide which would be better… it was okay. She was going to wake up soon, right?

Or not.

She briefly, inexplicably, thought she saw Mr Brunner's face just outside the window, looking intently at her… a hallucination?

Then, before either could reach her, Grover slammed into her back and pushed her to the ground just as the blade flew straight past the point where her head had been milliseconds before, slamming into a seat with the handle – the hilt -quivering in mid-air.

The monster wasn't slowing down.

Grover's face was white, his whole body trembling… they were both going to die…

She reached out, grabbed the sword and swung it clumsily through the air just as the monster slammed into her. In an explosion of foul-smelling dust, it was suddenly… not there anymore.

"Grover?" she whispered. " _What the hell just happened?"_

Then she passed out.

 **Hey, guys! In case you were wondering, I'm not going to go through the entire PJO timeline. I'll skim over some things that happen. It will all be one fanfic.**

 **Please review! :)**

 **~thaliatheawesome**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey :) So, last chapter got a great reception… better than I was hoping, actually, so thanks to:**

 **Persephone 'Percy' Jackson**

 **ObeliskX**

 **FanFiction589**

 **HunterOfArtemisDaughterOfHades**

 **Namesarestupid95**

 **Neko Nishiriu**

 **NoSugarForValdez**

 **Rose1414**

 **Scarlet Sapphire Angel 15**

 **Sterek2112**

 **aine hathaway**

 **mlmary57**

 **mojosparkle13**

 **savisnire**

 **sharonpijl**

 **Crimson Dragon Devil**

 **FoxyPrism01**

 **GlaciesCruor**

 **Lets-Go-To-Vermont**

 **MissunderstoodPoet**

 **Paddy and Moony's Angel**

 **SilentIndigoMist**

 **SilverRoseInMoonlight**

 **Storyteller Person**

 **Winter Storm Art**

 **alkorn**

 **angel2u**

 **kitten0612**

 **musicfan1346**

 **Anyway. *mentally kicks self* stop procrastinating!**

 **Persis**

Grover couldn't stop shaking.

Okay, that was understandable. They'd just been attacked by some kind of massive evil monstrous bus driver. She was shaking, herself. But… he looked more scared of _her_ than what had happened, if that made any sense. And she was kind of impatient for answers from _someone,_ even if Grover couldn't give them to her.

Had she hallucinated? Probably. at the very most the bus driver had been crazy… no, she was the crazy one, seeing threats when there weren't any… no, _she had seen it._ Or not… She looked around wildly for some proof.

A smashed window. Grover's evident state of shock. The disappearance of the driver and the substantial pile of dust in front of her… yeah, she'd say that was evidence enough. Right?

The problem was that she really, really didn't want to believe it. At. All. Because if she had to choose between hallucinating and things like that… whatever it was, existing in real life, call her crazy, but she'd pick the hallucinations, thanks. Oh, wait… if she was hallucinating, she _was_ crazy. Great. A crazy, ADHD, dyslexic, possibly depressed fatherless kid who'd been kicked out of all the schools she'd ever been to. Which was a lot. Great, again.

She reached a hand out gingerly to touch the weird dusty substance, which was probably a bad idea – _scene of the crime shit, and stuff_ – but she couldn't help herself. If she was going to be crazy, she could at least act like it.

It felt strangely heavy, almost… damp, although a simple glance at it could have told her otherwise.

Behind her, there came a sharp intake of breath. "Um… Persis… I don't think you should-"

Grover was cut off as Mrs Kerr's head appeared from around the sliding bus door, eyebrows furrowed in the most irritable fashion Persis had ever seen her display. Her clipboard was clutched tightly to her chest, ridiculous bright blue coat flapping in the wind like some kind of overgrown azure bat. "Grover! Persis! What are you doing? Get off the bus; you've missed registration already…"

She didn't comment on their shell-shocked expressions, or the shattered window that she must've noticed crack even from the outside, or the absence of the bus driver, or… Persis could've listed another few million things that should've seemed wrong, by all normal counts. She couldn't have made _all_ of them up, right?

Dutifully, she rose upon stiff legs and walked out of the bus, followed closely by Grover, Rasta cap a little askew on the top of his head.

They walked at the back of the group, in silence, but eventually, when Persis dared to glance at Grover, she realised he must've been staring at her for a while. He glanced away, embarrassed, but she grabbed his arm with a sudden and overwhelming certainty brought on only by their shared gaze.

"Grover," she hissed through gritted teeth, "You know something."

His eyes widened a fraction. "Wh-what?" he let out a nervous, braying laugh that reminded Persis strangely of a barnyard animal.

"About-" she rolled her eyes, gesturing back to the bus. " _That._ God, please don't force me to go through the whole thing for you again. I'm sure your memory isn't _that_ bad, aside from your aptitude for calculus, which is almost as bad as mine."

She knew she was both being irrational and babbling, but she couldn't help it. It was a natural reflex when she was worried.

He didn't flinch, strangely enough; he hadn't struck her as the bravest guy so far. "Persis-" he muttered. "It's better if you don't know. Really. I…" he glanced around wildly. "If you could maybe forget that whole thing?"

She blinked. Er, no. She'd probably convince herself she was completely mad if she did that… she was doing pretty well about that already, actually. "No. You are going to tell me everything. I mean it."

She felt _really_ bad now.

"Okay, not everything, but… um… something… I'm really not good at this, um…" she laughed in panic. "Uh…"

The ghost of a smile slipped past his face, but then it was gone. "This… really… isn't the best time to be having this conversation, Percy…"

She blinked incredulously, thrown. "What did you just…"

"Oh, um, Percy… it just seemed to… fit?"

"No, it's okay…" she murmured. "Just- what my mom calls me sometimes, you know. But- don't avoid the-"

"Persis?"

She spun around to see Mr Brunner standing near her. "Have you got a comment?"

"Um. No." she said, distracted.

There was a ripple of laughter; frizzy-haired Nancy Bobofit let out an ugly laugh, revealing her disgusting yellowed teeth beneath her braces. Persis threw a glare her way, but it only made her laugh harder.

"Then perhaps you could explain for us what this stele represents."

"Oh…" she blinked. "That's… Kronos eating his kids, right?"

With a slightly raised eyebrow, Mr Brunner nodded. "Indeed. Kronos, the king of the Titans…"

Persis turned back to speak to Grover, but he'd somehow migrated silently to the other side of the group. She sighed in frustration, and began edging around to join him, but Mr Brunner noticed immediately and asked her what she was doing.

Damn. Grover was the one with the walking impediment. Why did it have to be _her_ that the teacher always noticed?

Oh, wait. It was her life.

 **XxXxXxXxXxXxXx**

She had no window of opportunity to question Grover again until it was lunch, the kids perched around the fountain or sitting on tables in the bleak and dirty courtyard with food balanced on their laps. Nancy Bobofit was flicking pieces of her lunch at random birds waddling around; her aim was so poor she ended up effectively giving them free food. She met Persis's revolted gaze with an amused smile that revealed far too many of her yellow teeth.

Grover was not in sight, weirdly. Neither was Mr Brunner. Mrs Kerr was chatting to a couple of the class netball fanatics, nodding along happily to what one of them was saying with her blonde bob jumping up and down as if desperate to escape her head.

It was stuffy and humid; far warmer than summer had any right to be, she mused angrily, swiping a strand of unusually dark hair away from her face. She knew she was probably going bright red. It always happened in the heat and she couldn't stand it. Everything in the lunch tasted the same; like a particularly disgusting brand of soggy cardboard… pretty much the same as the bag it was wrapped in. Although, she was fairly sure she wouldn't have noticed if she was eating that after all, preoccupied as she was.

The sun beat down on her head, sending a wave of nausea rushing through her body.

 _Oh, damn._ Deciding she couldn't stand it any longer, she shot a sideways glance along to Mrs Kerr. Still chatting with the netballers. Persis rose, head pounding as she swayed a little on her feet, and moved away feeling oddly flat-footed as she headed towards the museum.

Almost instantly, she began to feel better. A cool rush of air conditioning blew her hair across her sticky face as she entered; it was open, but far more shaded, and grew cooler and cooler as she continued into the depths of the building like an earthworm inching its way through the ground.

There was barely anyone there – even the vaguest signs of life, a dropped Coke can, a rolling coin, the squeaking of chairs – seemed to have vanished. That was, until Persis rounded a corner to hear muffled voices coming from a room with the door slightly ajar. Instantly thinking of snappy museum workers or irate teachers, Persis began to back away – and then froze. She had thought she had heard… her name?

Yes, curiosity was supposedly a sin. Especially in this instance. And she didn't want to get kicked out of yet another school – she'd been warned that if _anything_ at all suspicious that could possibly be related back to her occurred on this trip, she would be expelled, no matter what the circumstances. And she wouldn't be able to bear Gabe's fat smug face and her mother's disappointed gaze – anything but that.

So, in retrospect, this was a really, really, really bad idea… but if someone was talking about her? She had to hear. And besides, she was inherently impulsive.

She stepped closer, finding her footing carefully, and paused outside the door, listening intently.

"The summer solstice deadline is coming close to expired! Zeus will never back down and admit it wasn't her!"

What the… she really _was_ going crazy now, but she was positive that was Grover… but if it was him… _what was he talking about?_

"Even if he knew…"

The other voice was deeper, more thoughtful and contained, but still, fearful… all in all, the only person I could think of who sounded like that was-

Mr Brunner. What? It couldn't be them… _but, if they weren't in the courtyard, where were they?_

 _Shut up. This is stupid. Crazy,_ said the more rational voice in her head.

 _Yeah, well, you'd know all about that, wouldn't you…_ her more impulsive, flawed side snapped back.

She scowled, unintentionally clenching her fist. Glancing down, she exhaled heavily, before realising her mistake – but it was too late. Inside, the murmurs of conversation had slowed to a halt already.

"Did you hear something?" the person that sounded like Grover said nervously.

There was no longer any doubt in her mind. She was absolutely positive it was him.

Which made it even more imperative they didn't find her.

She glanced around frantically. There was nowhere – closed doors and glass tables didn't make for the best hiding places, and she had maybe seconds-

"Persis?!"

Oh, _damn._

She looked up with an expression of guilt to see Grover standing in the doorway with shock plastered all over his features. "Oh, gods, no, you weren't meant to find out this way, no, this is all wrong…" he blabbed, panicking.

Mr Brunner was evidently still inside the other room.

Persis looked around desperately, but there was no way she could get out of this. There was nowhere to run. No one would believe the school reject over a teacher and another student. She was going to be expelled… a lump welled up in her throat at the thought of going home to face her mother. And she'd been doing so well. She'd really thought she might stand a chance of staying at Yancy Academy, dyslexia and ADHD and all- it was nearly summer... But, clearly, not.

And, _what had they been talking about?_

 **Kinda short, but… review, please?**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey guys!**

 **It's been a while… *laughs awkwardly* but, anyway, unfortunately I don't have an update schedule planned, as I am firmly of the belief that all they do is get broken and annoy readers even more.**

 **So – the story.**

Mr Brunner was making a call, Grover told her. He'd stopped pacing up and down nervously, which was a plus, receding into a quieter version of 'harassed'. Now he was standing stock still outside to closed door, eyes squeezed tight, moving his lips in something that could've been a prayer, but Persis was pretty sure was in fact 'food'.

Great.

She shifted her weight awkwardly from one foot to another. Oh, god. What if the call was to tell her mother that she was – at long last – expelled from Yancy Academy? Or maybe it would go straight to Gabe? No, a Latin teacher couldn't just expel a student – more likely it was to the principal, to tell him all about the delinquent student who'd smashed a bus window and murdered – _murdered –_ someone.

She doubted her case would go down very well in a court of law – _and then he turned into a monster, and a sword flew through the window and I made him explode into a pile of dust accidentally._

After what seemed like an eternity but was probably only ten minutes, Mr Brunner emerged from the room, wheelchair squeaking as if it was carrying the burden of the day's events so far. Persis sympathised.

"Did the message get through?" Grover asked nervously. "Or was the light too bad?"

Persis frowned. Why would you need light to call someone?

Instead of answering Grover's question, the teacher swivelled his gaze – and the chair – around to face her. "Ms. Jackson… Persis – may I call you Persis?"

She nodded impatiently.

"Persis, I know this must seem very confusing for you, but I must ask – how much did you hear?"

She blinked, wondering what the safest answer was. Having no idea, she decided to tell the truth. "Um, something about a summer deadline – and someone not admitting it was her?"

"Ah…" he exhaled. "Well, Persis, I am afraid that the three of us must leave."

"Leave?" she asked. "Leave, where? You mean, like, this museum, or the state, or-"

"It is best that I do not tell you everything at this moment in time. I ask only that you trust me until I can explain everything to you. There are – complications-"

"Complications. Like the bus driver?

"An excellent example."

"Some example," she muttered. "I _wasn't_ hallucinating? I'm not crazy? The – the one eye, and the sword smashing the window…" her voice rose higher. "You're telling me I _murdered someone?"_

"I would refer to it was some _thing,_ " Mr Brunner said. "But as for the hallucinating, unfortunately, yes. Someone should be arriving to collect us any minute now."

"Like the police someone?" she asked panicking. Oh god, it had been accidental – should she run for it? She'd never escape in time… but how long did it take for a corpse to be discovered? Wait, there was no corpse… maybe she was safe-

A laugh emanated from behind her, and, whirling around, she came face to face with a boy.

He was perhaps fifteen or sixteen, with sandy, windswept hair and startlingly pale eyes. Oh, yeah – and there was a freaking _sword_ strapped to his waist. It glowed with a dull kind of light she'd never seen before to her knowledge, but it still gave her an odd kind of déjà vu.

"Definitely not police," he said. "More like here to save your butts."

Suddenly, Persis decided she felt annoyed by him. She had spent the day nearly dying, passed out, in psychological trauma and terrified out of her mind, and now she really did _not_ need a cute sexist asshole to mess things up even further.

She crossed her arms, trying to seem fierce – which involved a lot of don't-look-at-the-scary-glowing-weapon.

"Basic anatomy lesson: saving three people's butts doesn't grow you a brain, it just inflates your ego… if that's possible for you."

The guy blinked, and she momentarily felt bad before the smirk fell back into place. "Well, deflating someone's ego doesn't save your butt, it just jeopardises it."

"Is that what happened to your d-"

Grover coughed. "Um, Percy- sorry, Persis?"

She whirled back around, suddenly remembering their situation. "Oh! Sorry…"

"Persis? Interesting name," the guy commented.

"Yes, it certainly interests me more than learning yours. Now, can someone else tell me where we're going? Please?"

As Grover opened his mouth to speak, a dull crash sounded above them. Persis jumped, thoughts immediately going to the bus driver. Maybe there were more?

"It's okay," the guy reassured her for some reason. "It's just Thalia landing the chariot. Badly. I don't know why her father gave it to her."

She felt a little touched by his efforts. Maybe he wasn't all bad. But - a chariot? Was that code?

"So, if you fall out because of her driving, I'll catch you."

She immediately reversed that statement. Sexist prick.

"We should be going," said Mr Brunner, a small smile on his lips as he watched them. "We don't want anyone finding us."

"Won't the others miss us? The students and Mrs Kerr?"

"Mortals never see anything," Grover said.

" _Mortals?"_ Persis asked, gaping. Mr Brunner shot him a warning look – kind of like the kind he'd give before he put someone in detention.

"We should go," Grover said hastily.

Mr Brunner nodded. "Yes."

He pushed a blanket off his lap, and – stood. But it didn't stop there. He reached normal human height, but then seemed to keep growing, surpassing it as he stepped out of the wheelchair, leaving behind a pair of fake legs.

His lower body was that of – a – "horse?" Persis whispered.

Mr Brunner shifted, feet pawing the ground in annoyance. "The correct term is centaur."

She stumbled a little, despite not realising she'd moved back. "Oh, okay. Time-out. Are you two-" she pointed to Grover and the other boy, "- _centaurs_ too?"

Grover shook his head. "I'm a satyr, actually. Half-goat."

"Right," Persis murmured. Everything seemed oddly distorted, shifting in sinuous, imbalanced movements, like a mutating tunnel. She tried to move forwards, towards the light – so why was she moving backwards instead?

 _Oh, damn,_ she thought, and passed out again.

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

Persis had weird dreams full of one-eyed blond horses, running among statues and knocking everything over. She was running between them, holding her hands out and shouting, before everything buckled and warped like a fairground mirror.

The image changed. The horses warped into men – two men, one dressed in green, one in blue, running towards each other as she stood in the middle. "Give it back!" one of them screamed. " _Give it back_!"

She closed her eyes, and instinctively braced herself for impact.

When she woke up, she was lying on a deck chair in the middle of a huge porch, staring out over a lot of green hills and fields full of something that looked like strawberries. There was a pillow behind her neck. She hadn't felt something that soft in a while.

"You're awake," an irritatingly familiar voice said. "The healers thought you might be, soon."

"The healers?" Persis whispered… of all the stupid questions.

"The Apollo cabin."

She frowned. Apollo was a Roman god – of sun, and… healing, she realised, resisting the urge to snap her fingers. "Is that, like, a group of doctors named after the god, or-" she coughed a hacking cough, throat horribly dry.

The guy from before came into view, holding a glass full of a weird, not-quite-clear liquid. Something was different about him, and not just his clothes- he'd ditched the sword and assassin outfit for dark jeans and a ratty orange shirt reading 'CHB' – a band?

"You might want this to drink. I'm Luke, by the way."

Damn. She'd always liked the name Luke, although she supposed it was nice of him to get her the drink. She took it gratefully, sipping.

It was nothing like she'd expected, managing to be warm, buttery and exactly like her mom's chocolate chip cookies.

"Oh my god," she whispered. Then, louder: "Crap. Crap. I have to call my mom."

"Whoa, slow down," Luke said quickly. "Your mom knows. She's been expecting something like this for a while, anyway."

Persis blinked. "She- okay." She set the cup down on the porch, carefully, and caught his pale gaze. "What the hell has been happening?"

 **Yeah, so a couple of canon changes I made that you might want to note – Thalia never 'died' on Half-Blood Hill, so Luke is a lot less bitter than he would've been, and never got the scar from the dragon quest (but he isn't completely redeemed, wait and see) and he is younger than in PJO, simply because I find him more relatable that way – probably around fifteen/sixteen at the moment, as Persis guesses.**

 **Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it. Whether you did or not, it would be great if you could leave a review, telling me what you thought, what I should change, or ideas for the rest (I'm writing it completely as I go.)**

 **Blue cookies for everyone!**

 **~Darken Every Legend**


	4. Chapter 4

By the time Luke was done explaining, Persis was _tired._

ADHD or not, it took a lot of energy to throw three consecutive fits, kick Connor and Travis Stoll in the balls, half-strangle that guy Sherman and get knocked out. Again.

By the end, everything hurt – mostly her head.

" _These things you can do – you're only just discovering your potential."_

" _What, at getting kicked out of schools?"_

" _No. You and me, and the people at this camp – we're different. We're demigods. Kinda like the family rejects no one wanted, so we got sent to an orphanage… except, of course, the family would be the gods."_

Persis could imagine why no one wanted them. Everyone was crazy – including, it seemed, her, because she could actually see their point. It made sense… or, more sense than anything else.

"I'll show you to the Hermes cabin," Luke was saying. A few hundred metres away, a row of bizarre buildings were nestled into the fields in a kind of horseshoe shape. The wind whipped across her face, stirring up the scent of strawberries even more poignantly than before.

She blinked. "Your dad, right? I'm… staying with you?"

He grinned, and she got the impression he was trying not to laugh. God – gods? – even his teeth were unfairly white and perfect. Ugh.

"Sort of. It hopefully won't be permanent, though."

"I love you, too," she muttered, feeling a weird mix of sadness and annoyance at herself for feeling sad.

He blinked. "Whoa, I didn't mean _that_! Just that, when your godly pain in the arse dad claims you, you get to move out. And, as annoying as the gods are… well, you do want to know who it is, right?"

She felt only a little mollified. "Uh, yes. I guess. So… you have siblings? Other than… um, Travis and Connor?"

They had nearly reached the cabins, now. She was close enough to make out detail on the one that was nearest – peeling green paint, old wooden boards beneath that. In fact, she reflected, it was the only one out of around ten that actually looked like a regular camp cabin.

Luke grinned. "Other than two guys you kicked in the crotch, right?"

She didn't reply, determined not to get riled up.

He glanced over like he'd expected a response, but when none was forthcoming, continued. "Yeah, there are a lot of us. We'd be one of the biggest cabins as it is, but because the gods are shit at claiming their kids… well, there are maybe around twenty? A few over?"

She gaped. "What? Which one's your cabin?"

With a sinking feeling, she watched Luke's finger as it rose in the air to point at the wooden building she'd been looking at only a few moments before. "Cabin 12, honey. Home, _sweet_ home." His voice was layered with sarcasm and a little defensive pride.

"Don't call me _honey,_ or you get the Stoll treatment," she muttered. "Are we going in or not?"

XxXxXxXxXxXx

"Percy Jackson!" someone yelled as she stepped over the mildewed threshold.

She blinked. It was brighter than she'd expected. Light bulbs hung from the ceiling, with hastily made shades mostly comprised of duct tape scarcely blocking them. Beds were scattered at random across the room, pushed up together to make room from the sleeping bags haphazardly sprawled across the workspace. As she stepped forwards, a crunch under her foot enlightened her to the fact she'd stepped on a candy wrapper.

Not just a candy wrapper, in fact. A candy wrapper concealing a thin tripwire.

Persis looked up, just in time to see the strategically placed bucket of sewage water slip off the doorframe and fall in slow motion towards her head.

And stop.

She blinked, waiting for several seconds with her neck still craning upwards. Throughout the room, she was vaguely aware that the loud conversation had ceased.

Then – "No way," Luke said in hushed tones. She'd forgotten he was behind her; his voice threw her off and she glanced away, startled.

Some kind of connection broke, and the water hurtled downwards, cascading onto her head and showering her hair in grey, soggy cotton balls.

She raised her head slowly, until her eyes were looking straight across the room at Connor Stoll's face.

"Aw, crap," she groaned. "You just _had_ to wreck my only clothes."

XxXxXxXxXxXx

Luke hastily introduced her to the rest of the cabin, then whisked her out of the door still drenched in stagnant water, and half-walked, half-ran to the cabin to their left – a pastel pink designer outfit with little lace curtains with frills in the windows.

Considering her outfit non-choice, Persis didn't think she'd ever felt so out of place anywhere in her life.

"Luke," she hissed, "what cabin is this?"

"Aphrodite," he said, face utterly relaxed as he raised his hand and knocked on the door, loudly. "I have a favour to call in."

The door swung open, and Persis found herself face to face with the most beautiful girl she'd ever seen.

Long, glossy black hair hung in ringlets down to her waist, barely contained by a loose ponytail. Her baby blue eyes were wide, eyelashes fringed with mascara, her skin lightly tanned and smooth. Her clothes were so spotless, they might have come straight out of a fashion magazine.

Persis swallowed, doubly aware of her own pitiful appearance.

The girl's hands flew to her mouth. "Luke! And… my gods, what happened to – sorry, I don't know your name-?"

"Persis Jackson," she murmured.

The girl nodded, smiling. "I'm Silena Beauregard, head counsellor around here."

"Travis and Connor did it," Luke announced. "And I'm calling in that favour."

Silena squealed. "Of course! Come in…"

The cabin interior couldn't have been more different to that of Luke's. The beds were colour-coordinated, all with matching coverlets in pastels. The walls were covered in celebrity and family photos. The air hung heavy with the scent of expensive perfume, and the lights were baby chandeliers.

Silena ushered Persis straight to the back of the cabin and through a door, where a row of showers with pink curtains waited.

Indicating Persis should make full use of this, Silena stepped outside with a graceful smile.

Persis tore off her sodden clothes and stepped into one of the cubicles. Even the showers smelt vaguely of lavender in here. She flicked on the shower, turning the settings down, and relaxed.

Like always, the water reinvigorated her, loosening her tense muscles and clearing her head. She selected a shampoo and conditioner at random from a range of complicated beauty products – who needed an exfoliator specifically for their ears? – and massaged the bubbles into her scalp.

She was a demigod. An honest-to-god(s) demigod.

With a jolt, she remembered Grover. According to Luke, he, Mr Brunner, and another demigod called Leah Fletcher had helped get her comatose body safely back to camp. Shouldn't she check on him? He'd seemed upset before – something about the summer solstice – but everything had happened so quickly and she hadn't really had a chance to structure the chaos of her own mind in the past twelve hours.

Regretfully, she turned the stream of water off and peered around the shower curtain. Silena had left a fluffy blue towel and hotel-style slippers out, which she gratefully made use of.

Someone knocked. "Persis? Are you done?"

"I'm good!" she called back.

Silena pushed open the door, closing it quickly. Persis caught a blast of cold air from outside. Gods, it was like a sauna in here. She hadn't realised before, but she'd been in the shower for nearly an hour, judging by the clock on the wall.

Silena was carrying a hairdryer, nail varnish and more than a little makeup.

"Sit down," she instructed, and Persis obeyed, sinking onto the bench opposite the row of showers.

Silena turned the hairdryer on, and Persis resorted to listening to the steady sound of hot air hitting her ears. It worked quickly; she wondered briefly if it was infused with some kind of Aphrodite magic.

Silena produced a hairbrush from seemingly nowhere and began teasing out Persis's hair to its full length – far shorter than her own, but still considerable. Persis had been meaning to cut it for ages.

"Hand," Silena instructed, and began applying topcoat. "Aphrodite knows I would give you all this stuff, but until you move out of Cabin 12…" she shuddered. "They're all thieves, which I guess makes sense considering their dad. But Luke's nice. Just avoid the Stolls."

"I got that impression," Persis agreed. "Well, about the Stolls. Luke was a jerk at first, but maybe he's okay."

"He's a good guy," Silena said, glancing with a half-smirk at Persis, who felt her cheeks growing inexplicably hotter. "Give him a chance."

"I'll try," Persis promised, and Silena's lips turned into a full smile. "Excellent. Now. Anything you want to know…?"

 **Hey guys! So, I know this chapter was rather talking-heavy. I kind of needed to explain a** _ **little**_ **to Persis…**

… **but next time, campfires! Claiming! Annabeth and Thalia! (Or Andrew and Thalia.)**

 **Also,** _ **big**_ **plot twists ahead. Thalia isn't quite a Hunter yet, after all. On an unrelated note, some of my pairings are… less than conventional…**

 **But no spoilers! Please favourite, follow, or review, and if you're interested check out my other stories or even obianakylo's community, "Lost in Knockturn Alley. A wonderfully dark and angsty collection of the best Harry Potter fics on this site – please check it out :)**

 **~Darken Every Legend, signing out (for now).**


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